


Breaking the Bond

by A_bello



Series: Kinktober 2020 [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Alpha Galahad, Alpha Tristan, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Biting, Bottom Galahad, Floor Sex, Infidelity, Kinktober, Kinktober Day 2, M/M, Mated Galahad, Mating Marks, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Outdoor Sex, Reclaiming, Rough Sex, Top Tristan, Wrestling, dubcon, primal, scratching and biting, spit for lube, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_bello/pseuds/A_bello
Summary: Galahad's scent was rich, refreshing, intoxicating.Tristan’s lower stomach ached with every twitch of his nose, and his hands prickled with the need to grab, to take.So he did.
Relationships: Galahad/Tristan (King Arthur 2004)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948135
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	Breaking the Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here's day 2! I put a dubcon warning because I reference Galahad mentally escaping the situation, Tristan wrestling him down, etc. Just wanted to be safe..
> 
> Enjoy :)

It had been a quiet day again, the vast span of woodland filled with nothing but Tristan’s footsteps and the comforting sounds of wildlife. 

It could have been calming, had he not caught the pair of distracting scents that hung in the air.

He was crouching over a patch of bushes with ripe berries practically falling off the branches, yet the new smells were so overwhelming it felt his head was stuffed with cotton. He could barely even hear the nearby river’s roar, the sound nestled in the cracks of his senses.

Tristan wandered a little, feet silent where they pushed into the undergrowth, until he came to the running water.

Looking up at down the length of it, he took a deep breath, eyes falling closed.

There was the sweet scent of an omega; not familiar, but clearly dormant, and vaguely similar to a type of wild flower. Claimed. 

He didn’t care much for it, though, and he never would, not with the other scent much more dominant alongside it-the omega’s Alpha.  His scent was rich, refreshing,  _ intoxicating _ . 

Tristan’s lower stomach ached with every twitch of his nose, and his hands prickled with the need to grab, to  _ take _ .  He opened his eyes, prowling in the direction he’d been looking, until he came around the bend and had to duck behind the bushes at its edge with the sudden sight of the couple before him.

The omega was tanned, not the most curvy and fairly muscular, considering how hard it was for one to build up muscle.  He had long dusty gold hair, lighter highlights framing his face, which prickled with stubble and his back curved perfectly just before the waterline, but Tristan was not there to admire him. He was watching for the man beside him.  Clearly strong but shorter than the omega, with more facial hair. Yet, even with his gruffness, even his aura possessed a sense of  _ prettiness _ .  The man he was looking at surely couldn’t actually be an Alpha;

an omega, surely, and if not, a beta. With his deep brown ringlet curls that caught the light like jewels, and a plump ass that made Tristan dig his nails into the callused skin on his palms.  But no, they held true to their roles. Even at this slight distance, Tristan could see the mating marks. 

No matter. Despite the overflowing amounts of rage he felt, seeing the Alpha wrap around the omega-he almost let out a light snarl,  _ mine _ , but managed to hold back-Tristan knew he had to be careful.  He’d simply have to watch his majestic muse and wait for his opening.

**

He’d been watching the pair for days. He’d followed when they left the river, watching the way they gleefully bound through the woodland, through a clearing, and lounged about by a spring.  He watched while the Alpha hunted, a low burn in his stomach that could have been hunger, or something more. He watched while they ate his prize, gnawing on his own small catch.

It continued for a short while like this, Tristan quietly observing, mesmerizing the way the brunette’s muscles rippled when he caught his prey, the way he curled around his omega in the night. U ntil one day, the mated Alpha’s scent strengthened into something rougher, the sharp edges hooking into his mind and leaving Tristan dizzy with confliction.  It was that day that, crouching in the bushes while waiting to catch a rabbit or other small critter, an ungentle hand clasped his shoulder and pushed him harshly.

Tristan sprawled for only a moment, rolling over just as the beautiful Alpha he’d been watching for days pounced on him.

Beneath the auburn curls that fell into his face, his eyes were ringed with red, and he was half hard when he straddled the mess of an Alpha beneath him.  Quickly pulling taught on a few locks of long hair, he pinned his arm, panting raggedly.

Tristan’s mind was a mess of unintelligible rage,  _ mine that should be mine _ and  _ fucking kill him _ like the roar of a fire, burning in his ears. He almost misses the question the other asks.

“What do you want from us?”

His voice is perfect. It squeaks and cracks in the best places, and drags up Tristan’s spine like a lustfully carved blade teasing at its target. He wants to tear him apart.

“You.”

He says, snapping out of his daze enough to wrestle the other off of him.  The curly haired man grappled with him, their hands flying in different directions, rolling about in the dirt and undergrowth with loud snaps and growls.

It was a feral scene, really, the two naked men pressing and pulling and scratching on the ground. The smaller raked a hand over Tristan's back, and he could feel the raw burn, but all it did was thrall him further to lunge at him and bite down onto the skin that slid between his teeth.  He bit till the dull taste of iron pricked his tongue, and just as he released the latch his jaws had on his rib cage, the other’s elbow connected with the side of his head, sending him flat on the floor.

The brunette was on him in seconds, knees locking his midriff in place while his hands came down, punching and scratching while he took Tristan’s own hits.  Eventually, one hand worked into his ratty hair, the other wrapped around his neck.

They both panted heavily, Tristan's claws raking neatly down the outside of his thighs, not breaking the skin but leaving red welts in their wake.

“Why me?”

Tristan thrusts his hips up, achingly hard, the shock of it pushing the smaller Alpha off of him.

They yelled and fumbled a moment longer till the larger of the two had the rabid little man pinned on his stomach. He punched at the ground, tried to reach back around and claw at him, but he didn't get the chance; within seconds each wrist was enveloped in a firm, hardened hand and pinned to the dirt floor.

Fresh in his own rut, he leans down to let out a deep whisper against the other’s ear while he struggles, 

“You’re mine. Mine.” 

“You don’t even know my name.”

The response is surprisingly defiant, but in all fairness, Tristan wasn’t expecting any words in the first place; he’d been prepared for a snarl, a bite, a groan. 

He chuckled, a heavy exhale more than anything.

“Well, what is your name?”

The man beneath him pushed at the deathgrips on either wrist, angrily testing his limits, before letting his head fall forwards, body tense.

“Galahad.”

Tristan allows a deep noise to escape his throat, leaning down again to nuzzle and bite at his ear, unable to keep away.

He grinds down against Galahad, their heavy scents mingling in the air, sending the mixed instincts of  _ kill  _ and  _ fuck _ .  He let out a satisfied hum when the smaller man arched his hips, trying to rock Tristan off where he had straddled the backs of his thighs.

The larger of the two lets his hands trail up Galahad’s spine while he noses through the soft curls, down to his nape, upper lip twitching in warning when he passes over the mating mark there.  Adrenaline hummed through both their veins, the rush of it muffling the pain of the scratches and bites and blossoming bruises that littered their skin. 

There was still the far away feeling of stinging on his knees, and back, and surely on Galahad’s body as Tristan shimmied himself down his legs, sitting back down on his lower thighs to keep him from kicking back at him.

“Hello, Galahad,”

He finally mutters, hands coming to knead at the plush skin on his behind. The other whimpered, still trying to wriggle free, even as Tristan leans forward once again. He couldn’t help it, letting his hands press into his cheeks, nipping at his upper neck.

“I’m Tristan”

He growled against his ear before sliding his hands up, pinning his lower back and making Galahad’s ass lift, forcing him to present.  The man below him grumbled in protest at the degrading position while Tristan still poked and groped, thick fingers sliding between his legs and over the sensitive skin there. 

Galahad groaned when he cupped his balls, pressing the flat of his palm against them. He pushed back against the sensation, anger bad lust desperately at war within his mind.  The dirt smelled moist from the previous day’s rain, and it was already getting stuck in his beard, pressing against the welts on his skin, the bite mark on his side.

Tristan’s hand trailed lower, sliding against his inner thighs, leaving him gasping at the touches along the sensitive skin there, every shift a burning hot prick at the haze that had draped over his senses.  The weight on his lower back disappeared, but Galahad wasn’t trying to fight at the moment. He pondered it when he let out a surprised moan, Tristan’s teeth scraping along the back of his thigh roughly as he sucked and bit. 

One hand beneath Tristan’s own groin, palming his erection, the other sliding up Galahad’s back as the other Alpha nipped light bruises into the skin beneath his lips, straight up onto his ass. 

Sitting back up, he slid his fingers through the auburn curls atop his head, straight around his face and into his mouth. 

He dragged his fangs lightly over the middle of his spine, huffing out a light “Suck.”

Galahad couldn’t help but listen, tongue swirling the digits in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and making obscene sounds around the flesh. Eventually, spit dribbling over the smaller man’s lips and chin, Tristan had enough self control to slide his hand out, sliding over his own cock momentarily and then taking the saliva and precum there and rubbing his hand between Galahad’s thighs.

He finally teased his cockhead against the back of his balls, his thighs, pushing past the loose skin there with a hearty groan. He gathered the plush skin of his thighs and pressed them together, moving to slip between the purple and red legs.

Galahad gasped, leaning back slightly to turn and get a glance at what the other Alpha was doing to him, before a hand fisted itself in his hair and forced his cheek against the dirt once more.

Tristan pulled his hips back, sucking in a breath at the tighter squeeze of his tense thighs, at the half-lubricated drag of skin on sensitive skin, before rutting back against him. His cock slid thickly between Galahad’s legs, the tip almost scraping against the ground, relocating to brush against his balls instead.

“Oh..”

Galahad was panting, dirt growing moist and clingy against his beard and nose, not that it mattered much to him. Even with the tight burn of his fresh wounds, with the demeaning position he was forced into, the only thing his amped-up mind could focus on was the heightened amount of pheromones in the air. 

They pressed thickly against the roof of his mouth with every gasping inhale, thoughts refusing to abandon the current subject, which was _his cock is so big and_ _so warm_ and _I want it inside me_.

It was an absurd idea, really. He had never even experimented with the prospect of being penetrated that way, and would probably tear at the girth of his shaft, the possibility of taking Tristan’s knot nearly extinct.  He wouldn’t realize the depth of his train of thought until later on, because the moment was centered around the pure sensations of it all.  His ringlets pulled taught and used as a grip for the other, his face pushed roughly against the ground, hips angled up to allow Tristan to pump his cock hotly between his thighs, pressing along the underside of Galahad’s own dangling member on occasion.

They both were moaning, groaning, mewling like rabid animals, desperately humping and grinding with all the need they could muster. 

Galahad humming into the floor, squirming to try and break his rhythm, Tristan meeting his retaliance with reinforcement, angling his hips up and making it harder to wiggle away. 

The embarrassing squelching sounds and grunts as they moved against each other on the floor were all that the two could hear over the sounds of Tristan’s quiet groans and Galahad's gasps and angry huma.

Quickly, though, the larger Alpha’s thrusts grew more sporadic in the sticky heat they shared, irises laces with a deep red as he stared hungrily after Galahad’s neck, bared and inches away from his own hand.

Said hand slid from his curls, leaving them disgruntled and wayward, but he quickly replaced it with his nose, sniffing and nipping at the soft hair and tanned skin below it. 

His hips ground against him shallowly, pressing harder, letting Galahad lay flat on the floor while he gasped against his nape, knot swelling as he pushed between the chafed thighs he’d so desperately bitten and clawed at earlier. 

He stilled suddenly and at the same time bit down on the faded mating mark beneath his lips, hard enough to feel the sweet scent of his new toy and the taste of iron wash over his tongue. He pushed his dick half in again, his seed burning hot as it washed over Galahad’s balls and thighs, knot rising and pushing against the thick muscles he’d been thrusting against.

With a low, wet sound, his hips twitched forward, and his knot slipped between his legs, the ache slightly dulled now. 

Galahad let out a deep, needy whine, legs shaking. 

“Please…”

Tristan hummed, licking over the mangled skin.

“Please what?”

Galahad didn’t give in, retreating deep into the catacombs of his mind to escape the moment, to try and return to being unaffected by the other’s natural scent, the throb of his shrinking knot, his own achingly hard cock pressed against the forest floor.

He wanted to beg, to arch his back further and press against the other Alpha, to plead for release and touch. Instead, he huffed, shifting so his bruised stomach bore less of Tristan’s weight where he leaned over him. What now? When would he be released?

“How can I return to my omega now, defiled?” 

A deep, startling rumble sounded from behind him as the other’s fangs sank into another tender spot on his nape. Galahad cried out, voice breaking with near overstimulation and pain. 

Tristan vowed then and there that he’d never release the other, would keep him for himself. If he could, he’d stay like this for eternity, endlessly making a mess of the needy and whorish man below him. He leaned up, softening cock sliding through his own thick ropes of cum, wet on Galahad’s skin. Tristan nipped lightly at his earlobe, relishing the shiver that ran through him when he growled against the soft skin,

“You won’t.”


End file.
